A New Beginning

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"Move over, Louie. You know you aren't supposed to be on the couch." The dog lifted his head to give him a brief look before going back to his nap with a grumble.

"Damn dog. If I have anything to do with it, you're going to start going for walks when I get out of this wheelchair."

His cell phone buzzed again, and he answered it this time almost immediately.

"Hey!" his brother greeted gleefully, "I finally managed to get a flight out. I should be in Seattle tomorrow morning at ten. You can finally leave Leah's place, man. I bet she's been driving you insane!"

"Yeah," Jon replied cryptically, "I guess she has."

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would. Bro, you can finally go home. I know she's been making you sleep on the couch the entire time you've been there; she never let me crash in the spare room when Paul and I went out. Aren't you at least excited to sleep in your own bed again?"

"No, actually, I've found that I quite like sleeping in Leah's bed."

He knew immediately that he'd said too much.

"What?! You mean you've been getting in on that? Don't get me wrong, I used to think about it, but damn. Good for you, bro. You melted the ice queen."

"Don't you dare talk about her like that. You know I consider you to be my brother, but if I so much as see you look at her the wrong way tomorrow, I will kick your ass. I don't care if I break my left leg doing it, either."

Tommy was confused by intensity of his brother's protectiveness, but he decided not to push his buttons. "I won't, I promise. Just make sure you're at the airport a little before ten, alright? I gotta go finish packing. See ya tomorrow, bro."

"Yeah, see ya."

That night, after Jon and Leah made love two times, they laid in her bed in almost complete silence. They only briefly touched upon to topic of his leaving the next day during dinner. Neither one of them wanted to bring it up, but he eventually decided it would be for the best.

"Leah, you know we have to talk about it before we go to sleep."

"I know."

"I'm going to miss you, you know."

"Me, too."

"Are you going to carry on this conversation monosyllabically, or are you going to actually talk to me at some point?"

"I don't know. I just- I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go, either, but we both knew this was going to come at some point. This doesn't change how I feel about you, I hope you realize that."

She sighed, rolling over so she was leaning over him with her arm propped on his naked torso. "That's good to know. I'm just afraid how I'll react to having Tommy around again. What is it with him being friends with men that I sleep with?"

"I dunno, maybe he's trying to get close to you himself." He winked at her, sending her into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, definitely not. He can't stand me anymore than I can stand him, and that's not a lot."

"Well, you have to tolerate him a little bit to take me in like you did."

"I told him last week I only agreed to do it for Paul. For whatever reason, they were good friends, and I knew deep down he would have done the same thing for me. I had no choice but to say yes."

"Are you happy with that decision?"

It was her turn to tease him. "You could say that."

"So, why don't you two get along, anyway? I was never really given all the details, but I can sort of remember him complaining about you quite a bit."

"I'm sure," she said rolling her eyes before settling into her side of the story. "I guess it started off as petty jealousy on my part. We had only been living here together for three months at the time, and I was still relatively friendless. Then one day out of the blue, Paul comes home from working at the construction site regaling me with stories of the new guy at work. According to Paul, Tommy was the funniest guy he'd ever met, and they made plans to meet at O'Donovan's Pub later that night.

"I'd been okay with it, not wanting him to feel guilty about leaving me at home. I've never been much of a drinker, anyway, so the appeal of a dingy downtown dive bar was completely lost on me. Nevertheless, Paul went out later that night and met Tommy at the bar. He didn't get home until around two in the morning, but I didn't think much of it. He'd gone out drinking with the guys in Georgia every so often, and he always staggered into bed around that time.

"Until that point, I was actually happy Paul had met Tommy. He'd tried reconnecting with his old high school buddies in the months leading up to that, but he had a hard time carrying conversations with any of them. It was hard for him to relate to people whose only real problems in life stemmed from petty work and relationship problems. Paul had to go through a lot of shit overseas, and I remember him sounding genuinely annoyed with the people he used to be friends with."

"That must have been difficult for you."

"It was, but what could I do? He knew I was there for him whenever he needed to talk, but he was wary of really opening up to me about certain topics. I learned over the years which buttons not to push. He told me what he wanted me to know, and that was that.

"Anyway, after that first night with Tommy, I noticed things beginning to change with Paul. He got to be even more dejected that usual about most things, but he still went on and on about how great Tommy was. It got to the point where I didn't really have a choice but to meet him, and he eventually came over to the house about two months after they first met. It was actually right around this time of year, because I remember him joking to me about giving me a kiss under the mistletoe."

Jon shook his head in confusion. "But you don't have a mistletoe."

"And now you know why," she replied with a quick peck.

"Okay, go on."

"As you could have guessed, Tommy didn't exactly get off on the best foot when we met, but things got better over dinner. He was a talented storyteller, and I found myself immediately understanding why Paul had been so enamored with him. Not only that, but aside from the mistletoe comment, he was on his best behavior. That part was actually pretty aggravating, because I knew from talking to Paul that Tommy was anything but prim and proper. It bothered me that he held something back in front of me, because it made me wonder what else he could have been hiding, you know? It felt like he was keeping some big secret from me.

"Despite that, I made no protest when the two of them announced they were going out that night. It was just their routine by that point, and like I said before, I didn't want to put myself in the position to jeopardize any of Paul's friendships. I wish I had said something, though, because I can now recognize that night as being the turning point in our own relationship.

"The nightly barhopping quickly turned into day drinking at home, and it was starting to take a toll on me emotionally and physically. It got to the point where Paul could hardly take care of himself, so I found myself cleaning up after animals at work then coming home to a man that needed the same attention from me.

"I didn't know what to do; I'd never had to deal with someone who had any kind of drug dependency before, so I took the advice of one of my coworkers and decided to adopt a dog. She had heard from her cousin, who is a family counselor, that pets could sometimes give an addict something else to latch onto instead of the thing they were addicted to."

"And that's when you adopted Louie?"

"Yeah. He was an English bulldog, and I went to school at Georgia. It seemed to fit in theory."

"Did he help at all?"

"He did at first," she agreed, "but then I started seeing the beer cans again. He tried to hide them some of the time, but he never put much effort into it. By this point, it was almost the end of April, and had had enough. I talked to Paul's parents numerous times about my options, and they both agreed when I told them my plans to take him to rehab. Unfortunately, the only decent rehab facility in the state had a voluntary program, so I had to convince him to go.

"So, one night, we were in bed watching TV, and I just spelled it out for him: it was me or Tommy. If he chose me, he needed to seek help, and we would try to move on. If he chose Tommy, I was prepared to give him the number to my lawyer's office. I'd had divorce papers drawn up by then, and I was ready to serve them to him at the drop of a hat."

"What did his parents think about that? Did they know?"

"Ellen is the one who put me in contact with the lawyer. She loved her son more than anything, and she said that's the reason she wanted to help me out. She knew he loved me, and if he was in his right mind, he would have let me go. He would have wanted me to go if it was anyone but him causing me so much stress."

"They really do love you, huh?" He stroked her arm before pressing his hand against her cheek. She'd done a good job up until that point of not shedding any tears, but he could sense the end of her story was fast approaching, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to console her when she finished. All he could do was hope that she wouldn't push him away.

"They really do. I told you they were blessings to me."

He nodded his head in silent agreement and urged her to go on. "So, what did Paul say when you gave him the ultimatum?"

"Nothing, he just turned over and went to sleep. The next day, I called my lawyer to tell him to have the papers ready for the next day. It was our anniversary when I called, and it would have killed me to ask my husband for a divorce on our anniversary. You just can't do that. It's almost just as bad to do it the next day, but I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to."

"What happened to make you change your mind? I know Tommy would have mentioned you two getting a divorce. He kept most things between him and Paul private, but he would have said something about that. I'm sure of it."

"Well," she said looking up, wondering if Paul had been listening to her at all that night. Part of her hoped he had, while the other hoped for the complete opposite. "He remembered."

"Your anniversary?"

"Yes, and he bought me a dozen white lilies. They looked exactly like the bouquet I'd held at our wedding. I knew as soon as he did that that I had to see things through with him. I didn't marry him just to leave when things got to be difficult. All I wanted that entire time was some sort of a sign from him that he was going to be okay, that he wanted to be okay, and that was it.

"The card he'd given me with the flowers had a simple message, but I don't think I'll ever forget it in my life. All it said was, 'I'm going to get better. For you. For us.'"

By this point in her story, Leah had completely broken down. Her entire body was wracked with sobs, and it was all she could do not to soak Jon's shirt with her tears when he pulled her in for an embrace. They sat in her bed for minutes just holding each other and gently swaying back and forth.

"It's okay, Leah," he promised her, "It's okay. You don't have to say another word tonight if you don't want to. We can do whatever you want."

After a few deep breaths, she was able to bring herself back together. "No," she said with a shake of her head, "it's about time that I get all of this out of my system. You're the first person I've had to tell this to, and I think it'll do me some good to finish if you don't mind."

He shook his head softly before kissing her forehead. "I don't mind."

"That night, we had sex for the first time in months. It felt good, literally and figuratively speaking. Even without sending him to rehab, he seemed to be opening up to me again, and he even made a show out of emptying bottles of beer in front of me.

"'This is the last time you ever have to look at these in the house again,' he'd told me.

"And he was right. Aside from the occasional get-together with friends and neighbors, there hasn't been a drop of alcohol in this house, and the alcohol that has been here was wine I'd bought for guests to drink at dinner.

"Anyway, it was about one night about a month after our anniversary, and I'd started to feel nauseous and generally just more tired than I normally would have been. I went to the doctor after about a week of that, and he confirmed what the at-home tests had already told me: I was pregnant."

"But you never told Paul." He said it as a clarification, not as an accusation.

"Right. At the time, he was still fragile, so to speak, and I wanted to spare him the extra stress until I knew the baby was out of the woods. My OB/GYN told me the first trimester was critical, and I didn't want to take any chances getting him excited about my pregnancy only to have it end with a miscarriage.

"I'd known I was pregnant for maybe a week the night that Paul died. We were in bed watching Seinfeld reruns when he got a call on his cell. It was Tommy, calling to use Paul's cab service. I was irritated, but I didn't think much of it when he left. I could tell Tommy had probably already been cut off by that point, so I had no reason to believe Paul would end up drinking. Besides, I wanted him to know I still trusted him. So, after gave me a kiss and left, I just went to sleep.

"I vaguely remember the phone ringing a couple hours later, but I never answered it. Nobody I knew would be calling that late, so I just figured it was a couple bored teenagers trying to crank call people.

"The next morning, however, I awoke to a series of insistent knocks at the door. I didn't even notice Paul wasn't in bed with me until I got up and went to answer it. I opened the door to find a pair of police officers completely lost it. I knew. They didn't have to say a word; I just knew.

'How?' I asked them between sniffles.

'Ma'am, we believe your husband was hit by a drunk driver last night. We are very sorry for your loss,' was all they said. They gave me the card for a Police Department-employed psychologist, apologized one more time, and left.

"And that was it. I realize looking back on it now that Tommy was only a catalyst in Paul's story. He didn't cause the pain that drove him to alcohol, he only helped Paul get there faster. I just wish he had called someone else that night."

"So do I," he told her, punctuating his agreement with a light squeeze of her hand. "Leah, if I tell you something, can you promise me not to be upset?"

"No."

He decided to say it, anyway.

"I think I'm in love with you."

***

The next morning, Leah and Jon said hardly one word to each other. They tried not to think of the fight they'd had the night before, but the memory of their heated exchange was too fresh to ignore.

She had blown up at him when he confessed his true feelings for her, and he tried valiantly to defend himself from her attacks but to no avail. During the car ride to the airport, the two of them sat in a painful silence. They were both tired and irritable from the night before, and they knew any mention of what had transpired could very well lead to another argument on the interstate, something neither of them wanted.

After she pulled into a space in the drop-off lane in front of the United Airways counter, she couldn't help but erupt once he was once again seated in his wheelchair. Her anger had been boiling for hours, and she just couldn't stop herself.

"How do you say that to a person who just told you about losing her goddamn husband?! Do you have tact whatsoever?"

"No, I guess I don't. I warned you when we met that I might offend you with my forthrightness, but I won't apologize for what I said. I may not always have the best timing, Leah, but if what you told me last is any indication, there is no such thing as good timing. I can't keep my feelings to myself, because I don't want to.

"I just wanted you to know where I stood, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. That was last thing I wanted to do. I hope you know that."

"Goodbye, Jon."

With a defeated sigh and a wave to Charlotte through the backseat window, he was off to find his brother.

***

Leah and Charlotte had just finished setting out a plate of cookies for Santa when they decided to end their Christmas Eve with mugs of hot chocolate on their front porch. It was cold outside, but they both enjoyed the snow and the added sense of the holidays it brought with it.

"Mommy, can I have marshmallows in mine?"

"Of course you can. How many do you want?" Leah had thought ahead and brought a bag of them outside with her.

"This many," Charlotte answered, holding up three fingers on one hand and four on the other.

"Okay. Seven, it is." She then counted out seven marshmallows and plopped them into the warm liquid in her daughter's mug.

"After this, you know it's your bedtime, Charlie. You don't want Santa to skip over the house because you're awake, do you?"

"No!"

"So, what do you most want Santa to bring you tonight, Charlie?"

"Jon!" she answered simply.

It was like Charlotte had been reading her mind. Leah had been wanting the same someone for weeks now, and she wasn't sure what to do about it. With the way they'd left things, she was positive he wouldn't want to give her the time of day if she tried to apologize, even if it was Christmas. She was worried she'd ruined her chances at a relationship with the second guy she'd ever fallen for. Just the thought of it was enough to ruin the entire holiday for her, and now she was concerned it was ruined for Charlotte, too.

"Sweetie, I don't think Jon's coming back anytime soon. Mommy was very angry with him when she shouldn't have been, and she hurt his feelings. I'm sure I'm the last person he wants to see tonight, sweetie. I'm sorry." She spoke through sniffles, unable to hold back her emotions completely. Luckily, she was able to keep the tears at bay. She wasn't going to let herself cry in front of her daughter on Christmas Eve.

"No, mommy. It's Jon! He's here!" She was now pointing frantically behind Leah, willing her mother to look over her shoulder.

Sure enough, there he was, slowly making his way up her driveway walking away from a cab that was at least fifteen years old. His uneven movement was punctuated by the quiet click-clack sound his crutches made on the snow-covered cement.

"Don't be so sure about that, Leah," whispered his all-too-familiar voice when he finally reached the edge of the porch.

She looked up at him in awe, unable to form the three words that had been playing in her head for weeks now.

"You did hurt me when you turned me down that night, but there's no way I could stay away for that long. These past two weeks have been hell. I've missed you two like crazy. I would have walked over here tonight if I had to, though I have to admit taking a taxi was probably a lot faster."

"What about Louie?" Charlotte eagerly asked from her spot on the porch swing. Jon held his arms open to her, and she flung herself into them. "Where's your wheelchair and your old past?"

"How could I forget Louie? Of course I missed him, too. My doctor gave me a new cast last week, kiddo. I get to walk around like a big boy again." He gave her a wink before unwrapping his arms around her so she could return to her still-warm, not-quite-hot chocolate.

He then turned his attention to the woman standing next to him and reached out for her hand. In a whisper, he asked, "Did you miss me, Leah?"

She eagerly squeezed his hand in kind and stood in front of him. "Yes, of course I did. You have no idea the wreck I've been the past couple weeks."

He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his head into the crook of her neck. "Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea. I'm crazy about you. I love you, Leah. I'm positive of it now. And I don't want you to think you have to say it back to me, because I'm not going anywhere this time. You can't force me out of your life now. I'm in too deep now. You're just going to have to get used to having me around."